


"I'm into you. Dumbass."

by VeloxVoid



Series: Garreg Mach University - College AU [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Attraction, College AU, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd Needs a Hug, Felix Hugo Fraldarius Being an Asshole, Love Confessions, M/M, Modern AU, Modern Era, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24024484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeloxVoid/pseuds/VeloxVoid
Summary: Dimitri finds it impossible to believe that Felix of all people could possibly be into him. However, as he struggles to comprehend when Felix confesses his attraction, he slowly learns that the snarky asshole actually has a softer side.A relationship forms, and blossoms, and the lonely young Blaiddyd discovers what it means to love.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, dimilix - Relationship
Series: Garreg Mach University - College AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733017
Comments: 17
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [korereapers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/korereapers/gifts).



Exiting his lecture theatre, Dimitri stood against one wall and heaved a sigh, opening his satchel and shoving his jacket into it. For the Lone Moon, it was hot, and he pulled at the collar of his plain white shirt to waft some air across his sweating chest.

Closing his bag once more, students surrounded Dimitri, fleeing from the class he'd just been in as fast as their legs could take them. It was a Friday at Garreg Mach University, and students of Political Science were keen to take off and enjoy their weekend. Dimitri watched as Edelgard and Claude passed him, deep in conversation. Two of the best students in the class - high achievers who made success look a breeze, always blowing Dimitri out of the water in the debate club.

He sighed - he'd have to push harder if he wanted to match their level - match the expectations of his father, who'd done so much to get him in here… Just as he was about to head after them, however, the door across the corridor opened up, and a stream of students poured out of it, blocking Dimitri's path.

The young man watched them all, a little vexed, before he began to think. What class was this, that students that flowed from the room like urgent little fishes? He eyeballed each one, taking note of them - many well-built, strong physiques, and eager, competitive smiles. Phys Ed? Sports Science? A subject requiring a little physical brawl was evident from the muscles that most students packed beneath tight shirts.

It was then, however, that a familiar figure exited the room before Dimitri; a large, broad frame with soft, platinum-white hair. Dedue Molinaro met Dimitri's eyes and cracked a smile, his rugged face lightening slightly as he caught his gaze. Memories flooded back to Dimitri: meeting in their shared dorm, hitting it off, having one too many awkward moments of fleeting glances and close encounters…

As Dedue walked past Dimitri now, his coy smile was still as handsome as Dimitri last remembered it. The blonde gave a blush in return, watching the Duscan man laugh as he disappeared around a corner.

So, it was a Physiotherapy class. Dimitri had almost been right. 

"Hey." A hard voice came from behind him, and Dimitri spun around with a start to see Felix Fraldarius standing with his arms folded, eyebrow raised up at him.

Dimitri's heart leapt slightly. _Damn_ , if Felix didn't always look so _good_. With such an otherworldly aura - his sour temper, and bold, sharp features upon cool, ivory skin - the man was almost frightening.

… Who was Dimitri kidding? He was terrified of him.

"F-Felix," he simply said, taking in the man's outfit of a tight black turtleneck and high-waisted jeans. His leather boots were tall, almost reaching his knees, where they were tied up with silver laces. Dimitri had to admit: he'd always been a sucker for the man's fashion sense.

"What was that?" Felix asked him, his narrow eyes in a glower. 

Dimitri merely blinked at him for a second. Was he… speaking to him? "… What?"

Another scowl curdled Felix's handsome face. "Just then. With that guy."

Somehow, Dimitri had forgotten everything that had ever happened to him as he stared into those eyes of molten gold. He needed desperately to fathom what the man meant, but he was at a loss.

"You were positively _blushing_ over some Physio student," Felix spat at him. His angular eyebrows were drawn now, looking nothing short of irritated.

 _Dedue. Molinaro._ "Oh," Dimitri managed at last. "You saw that?"

“Yeah. I saw that.”

A nervous laugh escaped Dimitri's throat. Fraldarius was puzzling him. Dimitri had worked with him twice before in group projects, and had sat near him a couple of times in lectures, but aside from that, the two men barely knew each other. Felix actually majored in Criminology - Political Science he'd taken just to please his father - but that was the extent of Dimitri's knowledge of him. For him to be interested at all in Dimitri’s life was frankly astounding.

"So… What's up?" Dimitri pressed his lips together, feeling increasingly awkward at the situation; not only had he been caught goofing off with a man he'd once crushed on a little, but he was evidently being judged for it, too.

"What's up is: who does that?" A sort of cunning look came over Felix now, twisting his lips that were so thin but still so enticing. "Who goes around blushing at other men?"

Dimitri's heart froze in his chest, ice seeming to crackle through his lungs and across his ribs. What was Felix insinuating? "What do you…?"

"Are you into him, or…?"

It was as if all the ice cracked at once, making way for a flood of warmth throughout Dimitri's body. His skin prickled as a wave of sweat shot through him, blood rushing to the surface of his face and heating his cheeks once more. There was no way his entire face hadn't gone red - a trait he always cursed himself for - and he looked away hurriedly as he began stumbling over his words.

Felix merely laughed - a nasty noise that sounded full of venom. "Well, there's my answer!"

Dimitri's breathing was laboured. How had he known!? Was it obvious? Did everybody know? Was Dimitri the token closeted kid whom everybody secretly laughed at? He became aware that panic had overridden his body, his fingers beginning to quake slightly as he swallowed an awful taste in his throat. "What does it matter?" he whispered to Felix, sounding cagey.

The man cocked his head at Dimitri, one eyebrow raised once more. He then shook his head with an exasperated sigh. "Because, I'm into you. Dumbass. It'd be helpful to know if you're taken or not." 

Dimitri felt like he'd been hit by a car and a train all at once. Felix Fraldarius was a head-turner; his style was immaculate, always looking as though he could be on a catwalk, with features so perfect in a face so beautiful he could easily have been a model. Did he just say he was… into Dimitri? The prospect was absurd. No, it couldn't be; he'd misheard.

"Wh… What?" Was all he could get out.

Now it was Felix's turn to look a little bashful. In the only display of shyness Dimitri had ever witnessed of him, Felix turned his head away with a face of irritation. His words held no such hesitance, however. "You heard. Don't make me spell it out."

Into… Dimitri? Felix knew who he was speaking to, right? He had functioning eyes, right? Dimitri Blaiddyd was nothing - a tall, pale, bumbling fool whose limbs seemed to work separately from the rest of his body. His hair was an unkempt mess, and he wore a patch over one eye from an accident caused by his own incompetence. Felix had to be aware that Dimitri was entirely plain, if not outright repulsive - were it not for being annoyingly tall, his friends would often lose him in crowds due to his facial features being so unremarkable. Compared to Felix - the man whose prepossessing beauty set him apart from anybody else - Dimitri was frankly laughable. 

To boot, he was… Well, Felix had said it himself. He was a dumbass. While Felix drew the eyes of every woman - and many men - in the vicinity when he walked in late with his steaming, bitter-scented coffee shop orders, Dimitri often tripped over his own shoelaces upon entering the room. Felix was smart, always contributing his often-profound ideas to the class, but cool as well - quick-witted and aloof to the point people were terrified to talk to him.

Being paired up with him for a project in the first year had threatened to stop Dimitri's heart. Yet, despite Felix’s near-supercilious reputation, he was… nice. Surprisingly amicable. Quick to laugh, with an excellent sense of humour; the two men had gotten on surprisingly well. 

Unless… That was because he…

"Hello? Do I need to spell it out?" Felix put his hands on his hips. "If you're a lost cause, just say so. I'll back off."

No, Felix Fraldarius, Dimitri was not a lost cause. A long sigh left the blonde’s nose, shaky with nerves and fear. "Wanna grab a coffee?"

* * *

Felix sat down opposite Dimitri, a steaming mug in his hands. "What do you want to talk about?" he asked in a drawl, sounding bored.

Dimitri cupped his own mug that sat upon the table before him, looking out at the café around them. Sitting in a booth, the two were rather private, and to his right was a large window that looked out onto the bustling high street outside. "Just…" He tried to compose himself, fighting to ignore his nervousness and fresh confusion. "You're _into me?_ "

"I already said this." Felix looked as though he might throw his mug.

"I know, but… why?"

Yet, instead of hurling his scalding black coffee in Dimitri's dumbfounded face, he gave a laugh. It was not the spiteful, sharp laugh he'd given before, however. No, this one was positively nice. Almost piteous. His hands reached upwards, playing around the messy bun that sat high atop his own head to pull it loose; the action sent his silky, azure-hued hair cascading over his shoulders, where he then cocked his head with a calculating smile.

It overawed Dimitri - never before had he seen the man's hair loose, but it was… indescribable. In a moment of panic, Dimitri felt that it had sent his blood rushing downwards, making him swallow hard and cross his legs beneath the table.

Felix laughed at his reaction, too. "Why am I into you? Fuck, don't ask me. I can't help it."

Dimitri was pulled from his stupor, a little stung by the remark. "Why, thank you."

"So, why did you bring me here? You're gonna draw your rejection out for this long?" 

_Rejection?_ Dimitri back-pedalled fast. "No, no! Not rejection, no--"

With a sigh, Felix gave an exasperated look. “Then, what?”

At first, Dimitri had been incredibly excited at the idea of the most stunning man in class being into him, despite his initial shock. The more he spoke, however, the more deflated Dimitri began to feel: embarrassed, as though Fraldarius was ashamed, or irritated about being into him. The blunt manner in which he'd confessed only served further to beat Dimitri down; perhaps it was his own paranoia - which, admittedly, had always been rampant - but he was seriously questioning whether this was an elaborate ploy set up by Felix and his friends to trick Dimitri into thinking he had a chance.

Blaiddyd had never been a high-achiever, nor very talented at anything. He was a danger to himself, and to others, but became a blundering mess upon trying to hide it. The idea that anybody could like him was simply… a mistake.

“Tell me why,” he asked of Felix. “Please."

The dark-haired man raised his eyebrows with another piteous laugh. "You look good, Blaiddyd." At the evident skepticism on Dimitri's face, he continued. "Don't give me that look. You do."

"I'm not convinced." 

"You don't think you're attractive?"

Dimitri's face began to burn again - everybody knew damn well he was a mess.

"Well, you certainly look good when you blush." He rested his elbows upon the table, cupping his mug once more and lifting it to his lips. The amount of steam that surged from the heat of the liquid inside made it look dangerous, but Felix did not so much as bat an eyelid as he drank from it.

Dimitri sat back in his seat. "If this is some sort of plot to embarrass me, I have to tell you I already figured it out." But, damn, if Felix didn't look beautiful, staring at him through those cat's eyes. Dimitri wanted badly for this to be true - for Felix to be sincere.

He was met with a noise of pure disgust. "You think I have time for petty games? Alas, _Blaiddyd_. Unfortunately, I'm into you. " He drank from his mug once more. "Now, can I leave? Or are you going to give me an answer?" 

Dimitri took a shaky breath, and cursed himself inwardly. He was not good at this. Not good at speaking to people, nor at accepting compliments. To wrap his head around the fact somebody liked him was… He'd never experienced it before. "I'm… not with Dedue."

"Who?" The look on Felix's face made him feel stupid. Nothing he wasn't used to. 

"The man you saw before. You asked if I was with him, but… I'm not."

"Well, that's good news."

"Just…" Dimitri tried to bury his feelings of inadequacy. "Are… you sure?"

"Don't make me change my mind." Felix's expression was calculating, but still somehow kind. Trying to look inside of Dimitri - work him out - and enjoying it. "Now I _really_ want to get to know you better." 

"You won't find much," Dimitri admitted. "What you see is what you get." 

Felix's eyes darted down to Dimitri's chest - to the pectoral muscles that seemed wont to burst through his white t-shirt. "I guess I like what I see, then."

A wobbly smile cradled Dimitri's face. He could work with that.

Of course, it went without saying that he was into Felix, too. He had been since he'd laid eyes on him. The most attractive, smart, sly man in class? It was only natural that would leap at any opportunity he got - if he had the courage. Now that he actually had a chance, though… "Then, shall we head back to my place?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, I think this might be the longest single chapter I’ve ever written. So I must say, hello and welcome to my rambles.
> 
> I can only apologise for this chapter because I just wrote for fun so the plot is kinda non-existent. I hope some of you can enjoy it either way!
> 
> You can find me on Twitter - @VeloxVoid - if you’d like more rambling, or feel free to leave some feedback because I’d love to hear it. Thanks for reading!

"Where the fuck’s your bathroom?"

A harsh voice cut through the fog in Dimitri's brain as sharp and quick as a knife, causing his eyes to open once more. The sight of his own bedroom filled his vision: messy, clothes thrown here and there, an unorganised free-for all.

He'd drifted off. In bed, exhausted, with sweat rolling down his forehead and his breath ragged in his lungs. A sensation of happiness swelled in the back of his mind: a pleasure – a satisfaction.

He'd never quite felt anything like it. But it was  _ good _ .

"Blaiddyd," the drawl called again, and Felix Fraldarius appeared in the doorway, clad in Dimitri's own white dress shirt and nothing else. It drowned him, covering down to his mid-thighs while the rolled-up sleeves reached almost to his elbows. Dimitri could not help but smile; the sight was so endearing. At seeing his bare thighs, red bruises blossoming on their insides, memories flooded back to him of the hour before – pleasure flashing beneath his eyelids.

"Where's your bathr-- wait... Why are you smiling?"

Dimitri's grin grew wider; he felt dopey, and happy, and still slightly dizzy from the events of the last few hours. "I'm just… in a good mood."

"Yeah, well, so am I." The irritation in Felix's voice told otherwise. "Now, where's--?"

"There's one here, in the bedroom." And Dimitri pointed to the closed door on the opposite wall.

Felix drifted silently past, towards Dimitri's small washroom. "I should've known," he grumbled as he passed, "that you'd have a bathroom  _ attached _ to your bedroom. Why the fuck wouldn't you?"

Dimitri chuckled. “What’s wrong with that…?”

But Felix didn’t answer.

Swinging his legs from out of the bed, feeling the balmy air of his bedroom force beads of sweat to his skin, Dimitri stood and bent down to grab his underwear. They'd been tossed carelessly to one side in the heat of the moment, and he hopped around clumsily as he tried to don them once more.

Only afterwards did he follow Felix. Slipping into the little bathroom, he watched as the other man stood by the sink, tying his hair into a high ponytail once more. Dimitri approached. He took the hair in his hands, feeling how soft and smooth it felt beneath his fingertips. He'd found himself entranced by it - grabbing onto it in their passion and burying his face in it as they’d shared more tender moments. It smelled so good - freshly-washed, but masked by the scent of perspiration. A hot scent – a natural one. One that smelled like  _ Felix _ .

"Don't just stand there," Felix growled, reaching out a hand to grab Dimitri's wrist. He pulled the taller man into him, and looked up into his face with his glowing golden eyes. They were narrowed, but a fire danced within them - a passion that Dimitri had seen once before mere moments ago. He raised one sharp eyebrow. "Are you gonna let me clean up or what?"

Dimitri swallowed the uneasiness that rose in his throat; the tightening sensation of inadequacy and embarrassment – the feeling of stupidity, like he was nothing more than a bug beneath Felix’s shoe. Felix  _ liked _ him; he had to keep reminding himself. And he let a smile creep onto his face. “Do I have to?” he purred.

A  _ ‘tsk’ _ left Felix’s pursed lips. “Don’t play cute with me. Or I won’t be able to resist.”

Dimitri loped from the room, leaving Felix to make himself decent again. He faced his empty bedroom, clothes strewn around, and felt his heart leap; Felix’s shirt and jacket, his ripped black jeans. Remnants of the man who somehow, by some miracle, was attracted to him. And he buried his face in his hands, cheeks blushing intensely.

How had he possibly gotten lucky enough to score Felix?

When the shorter man exited the bathroom, he shimmied into his jeans, leaving the white shirt of Dimitri’s that draped over his shoulders unbuttoned. His body was beautiful – supple – with smooth pale skin over well-defined muscles. The scars beneath his pecs were visible, two thick pink lines that had resulted from top surgery, but Felix didn’t seem to mind them at all. He stood with his head cocked as Dimitri stared.

“Are you done?” he asked, smirk upon his lips.

Dimitri fought to pull himself from his daze. “Sorry, what?”

“You little creep.” Felix bent down, grabbing Dimitri’s trousers from where they lay in a puddle, and threw them at him. “Now get dressed. I’m fucking hungry.”

Fully dressed once more, choosing a plain blue t-shirt after having his previous one stolen, he led Felix through the apartment to the kitchen. To his relief, he found it empty: his roommates still out someplace or another. The clock upon one wall read:  _ 5.33pm; _ a little early for his liking to begin thinking about dinner, but Felix’s stomach was grumbling.

“Uh, so,” Dimitri started, playing with his fingers as he stood in the centre of the kitchen. “What would you like?”

Felix was nosing around, picking up a knife from the block upon the counter and inspecting its blade. He put it back and opened a drawer – the cutlery drawer – before closing it again. “You got take-out menus anywhere?”

Dimitri merely blinked. “Hm?”

“You know, a pizza menu? Or there’s that nice Duscan place in the city centre.”

“Oh, no,” Dimitri said, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. “Sorry.”

Felix cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t have take-out menus?”

“No, I, uh… I’ve been trying to cook more, recently,” he said. And he shifted uncomfortably, the tiled floor suddenly feeling cold beneath his socks.

“Huh.” Felix hopped up onto one kitchen counter, sitting next to the knife block. Once again, he took one out and began to play with it. “You’re a cook, now?”

Dimitri felt a blush flood to his cheeks; he had blushed more times in the last few hours than in the entire year combined. But, he did not complain. It had been too long since he’d had any reason to blush. “I’m not exactly a  _ cook, _ no. But I make some meals for myself and my roommates--”

“Like what?” Felix twiddled the knife between his fingers: a small paring knife with a razor’s edge. Dimitri bit his lip as he watched the action – watched Felix’s lithe fingers skirt around the tip in such a way that made him certain he’d draw blood. “Are you gourmet? Are you gonna be Fódlan’s next celebrity chef?”

“N-no! Of course not!” The notion was absurd – impossible. Dimitri was about to say so until he saw the twists of malice at the corners of Felix’s cruel thin lips. He was joking. Mocking.

He was… flirting.

Dimitri turned away before his blush became any more intense. Attempting to busy himself, he headed to the fridge and yanked open its door with unnecessary strength. “No, my meals aren’t gourmet. Just enough to get us by.”

“Is that so…?” the other man purred.

An uneasy laugh. “Yep...”

“Cook for me.”

Dimitri nearly crushed the fridge’s handle as embarrassment flooded him. Yet it was not only embarrassment that heated his blood now, surging through his veins with unrelenting vigour; no, the other warmth to tingle within him was  _ attraction.  _ An animalistic impulse that made him want to turn and kiss Felix, to silence those galling lips – fill his mouth with something other than words.

He released a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding and felt blood return to his brain. His eyes focussed once more to stare at the ingredients he’d need to cook with.

_ Cook for me... _

Dimitri spoke into the fridge, eyes locked onto a packet of mung bean sprouts. “You want me to cook for you?”

A soft, deadly chuckle sounded behind him. “Fuck yeah, lover boy.”

Dimitri’s soul left his body, leaving him an empty shell racked by embarrassment and humiliation, filling slowly to the brim with such an intense, burning desire he could hardly contain it. He swallowed, grabbed a handful of ingredients, and distracted himself with work.

Felix’s cat eyes watched him as he began to cook, blinking slowly downwards as if analysing. He sat atop the counter, leaning back on his hands, legs swinging absentmindedly. Dimitri prepared the ingredients silently under his watchful gaze, a cold sweat creeping down the back of his neck as he did; this was pressurising. Almost frightening. Only after he’d thrown the veggies into the pan and retrieved a packet of noodles from a cupboard did he realise he was making a stir-fry, cooking totally on autopilot. As he did, the scent of frying vegetables filled his nose; the tang of green onion, the sweetness of red bell pepper – they both mingled with the savour of soy sauce to make Dimitri wish so badly that he could taste again.

Felix spoke up only once, purring through his teeth. “I can’t believe you’re making me a meal without meat.”

Was he amused? Offended? Angry? Who ever knew what that mysterious man was thinking? “Is that bad?” Dimitri asked.

“It’s terrible,” Felix smirked.

He didn’t have any time to wonder what that meant, however, before he heard the front door open beneath the food’s sizzling. The familiar grunt of Ingrid’s exasperation as she wiped her shoes on the doormat sounded before she called out. “Hey, Dimi!”

Dimitri turned around to face the other side of the kitchen where she stood at the front door. “Hi, Ingrid.”

Panic settled in somewhat. Felix’s previous comment – that his food might just be terrible – coupled with the fact he currently sat lounging on the countertop wearing Dimitri’s open shirt – made anxiety settle in his stomach.

Ingrid kicked off her shoes and removed her bag from her shoulder. Only then did she look up, gaze fixing on where Felix sat analysing her through narrowed eyes, his slender legs crossed.

“Holy shit,” Ingrid merely said, eyes wide and disbelieving. Her fair eyelashes blinked, the irises beneath them as bright and bold as emeralds. For a moment, Dimitri almost smiled at her reaction – it was the thought that crossed his own enamoured mind when he gazed upon the man – before she spoke again. “You brought Felix  _ fucking _ Fraldarius here!?”

His heart fell. “Wh-what? Huh--?”

“And who are  _ you, _ might I ask?” Felix asked back, scorn flickering across his tongue.

“Dimitri!?” Ingrid looked incredulous.

Something was wrong. “You, uh… you two know each other?”

“I’ve never seen this kid before in my life,” Felix remarked.

“But I know  _ all _ about you,” Ingrid gave a sour grin – one filled with hatred.

Felix slid from the countertop and took a few steps towards her. “Yeah? Enlighten me.”

“I think I’d better not.”

The tension in the room grew thick – thicker than the heat of the air outside. Dimitri felt choked. He tossed his pan absentmindedly and decided the meal inside was ready to serve. “Dinner’s ready,” he called into the room, watching Felix and Ingrid stare each other down. “Ingrid, there’s enough for you too, if you’d like!”

“I don’t have much of an appetite,” she said pointedly. “But sure, why not?”

Dimitri laid bowls upon the breakfast bar – the long, tall table in the centre of the room – and filled them with the stir-fry. Ingrid claimed a stool, Felix sitting opposite her, and Dimitri perched upon the seat next to him, handing out cutlery.

The room was silent.

“Uhh,  _ Bismilla, _ I think they say in Almyra!” said Dimitri awkwardly, receiving no reaction. “Um, enjoy! Dig in…! Chow down…”

After a disheartening glance at Felix and Ingrid, he shut up, stuffing noodles into his mouth instead. His stir-fries had a nice texture – soft noodles with crunchy vegetables, and a definite heat upon his tongue – but, as usual, they tasted of nothing.

“So,  _ why _ are you here?” Ingrid asked Felix, cocking her head.

He slurped noodles into his mouth in response. “Why else?”

“I don’t know.” Ingrid’s eyes flicked to Dimitri’s. He glanced away. “I have no idea why someone like  _ you _ would want to be around Dimitri.”

Evidently intended as an insult, but Felix merely smirked. “Do I have to spell it out for you? Look at the guy.”

Dimitri looked straight down into his bowl, cheeks burning.

“Yeah, he’s Dimitri alright,” Ingrid remarked.

“Guess I  _ do _ have to spell it out. He fucks good.”

Dimitri was not hearing this.

“Ha!” Ingrid barked. “You… and Dimitri!?”

“Hell yeah.” The insolent smirk was audible in Felix’s voice.

“Man, oh man. You’ve got weird taste, Fraldarius. I’ll give you that.”

“What, you  _ live _ with him and you’re telling me you never considered it? You poor, stupid thing. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

Then, Dimitri realised.

Felix was bragging.

He pressed his lips closed and waited as they bickered some more. Felix’s tone was smug – galling – and Ingrid gave almost pitying laughs in return, but their words slipped into one of Dimitri’s ears and straight out of the other. His legs felt the consistency of jelly – still aching slightly from his exertion before and his muscles weakening as he fought to comprehend.

“Man, Ingrid. You have the hottest beefcake in the whole of Garreg Mach at your fingertips, and you don’t even care? What’s it like to be so blind?”

“I dunno. What’s it like to be attracted to such a bumbling idiot?”

Why was Felix showing off about him? Dimitri was nothing to brag about; he wasn’t popular, wasn’t intelligent, and he sure as hell wasn’t attractive. Yet Felix had found something within him that was not only enough to entice him, but for him to stay, eat his food, and rub in Ingrid’s face how much he’d enjoyed their seductions.

It was too much for him to bear. Dimitri dropped his cutlery and shoved his face into his hands. Why was this happening? Why did everything have to happen to  _ him? _

When the front door opened once more, Dimitri knew his other roommate had finally arrived home. This was only further confirmed by the familiar crow of: “What is  _ up, _ party people!?” Sylvain was home, stomping his feet on the doormat. “Damn, it’s a  _ bitch _ of an evening out there!”

Dimitri looked across to where he removed his jacket, fanning his sweaty face with a hand. His stomach sank more and more by the second, just waiting for something somehow worse to inevitably happen.

He could not have expected, however, for Sylvain’s cheery smirk to drop instantly as he turned around. His golden-brown eyes widened, eyebrows contorting with a sort of betrayed sadness. “F-Felix…?” he asked.

Felix’s jaw was hard, eyes furious at the form of Sylvain in the doorway. “Dimitri?” he said, voice low

“Yeah…?” Dimitri mumbled back.

“You failed to mention you lived with  _ this _ fucking guy.”


End file.
